Trial by Gunfire
by SkittleSKS
Summary: When Storm fails in her mission, it forces a re-evaluation of her powers, life, and purpose. The battle's over, time to wind down. *Do the happy dance with me, it's FINISHED TODAY*
1. Failure, to fall.

AN:  This is a story I started long time ago, and it died partway through.  It was originally posted on the Storm and Wolverine message group's postings, but when it was just not making itself a romance, I got frustrated and threw in the towel.  I rediscovered this the other day, and am going to make a go at finishing it.  It may or may not be a romance, we'll see.

_"Go, Storm!"_

_"I am trying, Cyclops!  I have her in my sight, and am closing fast."_

_"Watch your back, Storm, you've got a sniper on your tail!"_

_"On it.  I could use backup, there are too many for me to deal with and keep sight of the girl."_

_"I'm sending Wolverine over.  Get the girl!"_

_Right, left, up, down, through.  I need more backup than…left, down.  I must get the girl, I must save…_

Ororo bolted to an erect position, lightning crackling from her clenched fists as sweat collected between her furrowed eyebrows.   Wary, a tense moment crept by before Storm allowed herself to relax, eyes shifting back to their normal blue. She sighed, and then collapsed back on her bed, staring at the ceiling while she replayed for the hundredth time the most recent mission in her head.

In an attempt to scare the mutant community, a splinter group of the FOH had kidnapped a young girl from her home, and announced that due to her willful association with mutants, would have to be "silenced."  When the Professor had gotten wind of this, he sent a group of X-Men out to save the girl, and stop the "Friends of Humanity."  

Upon landing, the X-Men knew that they had just walked into an ambush.  Snipers with guns positioned from every conceivable angle, and enough explosives to create a second Grand Canyon in New York.  After a few minutes of the whole team simultaneously fending off the herds of FOH foot soldiers and avoiding gunfire, Storm was sent to get the girl and bring her back so they could disengage and call for backup.  

Flying toward the girl, Storm realized that the FOH had planned for an airborne mutant to grab the girl, and she reached for her communicator to call for backup.  

_"Go, Storm!"_

Before she could press the button to talk, Scott's anxious voice broke through the line.  

_"I am trying, Cyclops!  I have her in my sight, and am closing fast."_

_"Watch your back, Storm, you've got a sniper on your tail!"_

_"On it.  I could use backup, there are too many for me to deal with and keep sight of the girl."_

_"I'm sending Wolverine over.  Get the girl!"_

Mentally, she thought out her dodging patterns to keep her mind from leaving the immediate battle.  

_Right, left, up, down, through.  I need more backup than…left, down.  _

Catching a full glimpse of the child, Storm's heart cried out.  The girl's face was covered in scratches and marks, while her clothes were bloodied and torn from one too many soldiers manhandling her frail body.

_I must get the girl, I must save…_

That was all she could remember.  Her next memory was of waking up in pain on the Blackbird, bloodied, bandaged, and with Jean standing over her, holding her hand.  Momentarily shoving the throbbing aside, she prodded for answers.  "Did we get the girl?"  Jean's refusal to meet her gaze confirmed her worst suspicions.  Her failure cost the girl her life.  "Jean, what happened?"

"A sniper caught you in the back, Logan caught you mid-fall.  Before we could do anything, that same sniper was ordered to shoot the girl.  Logan got to the sniper, but not in time.  The sniper shot her once in the head, and then Logan killed him.  Most of the FOH by that time had scattered, so we took off.  And here we are."

"Thank you, Jean."

Jean smiled wearily, and then walked over to Scott.  Storm attempted to move to a comfortable position, and stared out the window.  _Once again, I am the weak link.  One shot, and I fell.  No more.  I will end this.  _  


	2. Determination, to try.

_Well, if nothing else, these claws are good for cleanin' fingernails.  _

Logan leaned back against the frame of his bed, idly using a single claw to pick under his nails.  He wasn't overly concerned with personal cleanliness, but the repetitive, mindless activity gave him something to do with his hands.  

Logan?  Could you check on Storm, please?  I believe that she has been in the Danger Room for quite a long time.  

_Yeah, Chuck.  I'll go.  _

Mumbling half-formed curses about the mental intrusion, Logan threw a shirt on over his sweatpants and headed for the Danger Room.  Before even opening the door that leads to the control room, Logan could smell the burnt metal and a piquant mix of sweat and frustration.  Drawing his brows together, he decided against just entering the control area, and stepped into the Danger Room itself.  

The guns were set to a strength that would sear flesh with a glancing blow, and the mechanized attack partners were programmed to fire from a distance if they could not get close.  Ororo had obviously been in there quite a while, as sweat cascaded off her body, and blood trickled out from torn clothing.  Her left shoulder looked dislocated, and Logan swore that her right ankle must be sprained, if not broken, along with possibly her collarbone.  Despite all that, Storm flew through the air faster than Logan previously believed she could, determination etched along her face.  While a miniature blizzard kept one group of robots from sighting her, she destroyed the robots with a ranged attack with lightning.  

"Computer, stop!  Override:  Logan 5624."

"Sequence halted."

If Logan thought he had seen Storm's fury while attacking the robots, he quickly made a mental amendment when Ororo landed, favoring her left foot, and turned toward him.  The crackle of electricity did not lessen once she realized the program stopped, in fact, it became more intense.

"Logan!  What do you think you are doing?"

"Are you trying ta kill yourself, 'Ro?  Sure looked like it to me!"

Striding toward him with wrath radiating off her, Storm's built up electricity occasionally leapt off her, crackling with a dangerous purpose.  When she was only inches away, Storm narrowed her whited eyes, and looked directly into Logan's.  "Better I kill myself now than let another innocent child place their hope on me."

Confusion flickered over Logan's face.  "What are you talking about, 'Ro?"

"She looked at me, Logan.  Looked directly into my face and for a brief second, recognized that I was her savior.  She placed all her hope onto me; Logan, and I let her down due to my weakness.  One shot from the sniper, and I went down, failing her.  She died, because I am ineffective."

"Storm, you can't blame yourself for…"

"Excuse me, Logan.  I am leaving."

Logan stepped in front of the exit, blocking Storm's departure.  Releasing her hold over the weather, Storm sighed and placed a hand on Logan's shoulder.  "Please move aside, Logan."

"No.  You need to go get fixed up in the medlab, then you need to have a talk with someone."

Storm's eyes flashed white for a brief second, and then she took a steadying breath before removing her hand and restating her desire.  "I wish to leave the mansion for a bit.  I will be fine."  

"I won't allow ya to leave like this, Storm."  

"I do not plan on leaving for an extended period of time.  I just need to clear my head."

Logan tilted his head to the side, and critically examined Ororo.  "You're lying.  Something's going on upstairs, and you don't like it.  There's something more to this.  You need to get fixed up."  

The air became still, and Ororo placed a small kiss on Logan's forehead.  "You are correct, my friend.  I do not like feeling helpless.  However, you will not be the one to stop me."  

A lightning bolt arced from behind Storm, and struck Logan on the top of his head, racing throughout his body, the shock knocking him into the far wall.  Storm floated upward, and towards the skylight.  "No, you shall not stop me."


	3. Honesty, to refuse to lie.

AN:  Sorry 'bout the short chapters.  I started this when I thought a page of text made a good chapter length.  Oops.

He wasn't surprised in the least that she wasn't crying.  In fact, if he couldn't visibly see her numerous injuries, Logan wouldn't have known that she was hurt at all.  When he had come to, Xavier was hovering over him, making sure that he was all right. Before he could even move, Xavier had then asked him to follow Storm, as she had slammed shut her mind to him.  Logan's first impulse was to deny his request, as he had no intentions of confronting Ororo again.  However, he saw and felt the hurt on the Professor's face over Storm's refusal to talk to him, so he got up and trailed her.  

It was remarkably easy to follow where Storm had gone.  Droplets of blood formed a nice, neat trail for him to follow.  After approximately ten minutes, he saw Ororo floating inches above the ground; her blood-soaked clothes discarded a few feet away.  The light drizzle both washed her off and helped form distinct rivers for the blood to follow.  Without turning around or acknowledging his presence in any way, Ororo asked, "Is my best good enough?"  

"What?"

"When we were returning from the mission, everyone told me that I had done my best, and that is all that mattered.  I do not need mollification, I need honesty.  Is my best good enough?"

Logan slowly walked toward Storm, wary of being struck once again.  Once he was beside her, he reached up and placed a hand at her back, trying to keep her calm.  "If we were satisfied with our best, we would never improve.  If this, here, is the very best you can ever do, then no, it isn't.  And it never will be.  If it is, you can quit training, 'cause you'll never improve.  This level isn't good enough, obviously.  You're damn good, but it ain't enough."

Ororo sunk down, collapsing on the ground.  Eyes watery, she looked up at Logan.  "Thank you."  A sudden gust of wind caught Logan off guard, and caught under Ororo to lift her.  "I am going to the Medlab now.  Thank you, my friend."  

"I'll help you."

Paused in midair, Ororo turned to look at Wolverine.  "What?"

"I'll help ya.  I'm the best marksman there is here, you wanna learn how to avoid the gunfire, I'll help ya.  You can learn."

Storm smiled a bit, and lowered herself down to Logan's height.  Kissing him softly on the cheek, she whispered in his ear "Thank you once again.  You are a true friend."  She then carefully floated back to the mansion, while Logan wondered what the heck he just got himself into.    


	4. Futile, to try for no gain.

AN:  Hope ya'll don't get too messed up with the Japanese terms, I couldn't think of any better way to describe it.  And thanks to my reviewers, especially Icequeen, for your support.  The short chapters are for one more, then I'm gonna have to come up with new material.  I know how I want it to end, it's if I want a romance in the middle is where I'm thrown.  Ah well, on with it!

She's getting good, I'll admit that.  A bit too overconfident in her side turns, though.  Gonna have to fix that.

Flying through the corridors set up in the Danger Room, Storm eluded a laser blast from a robot, and turned to take it out with a well-placed blast of snow.  Pushing herself towards the end target, Storm dropped to come up behind the next series of robots before allowing a rain cloud to wash out their circuits.  For his part, Logan sat patiently, gun held up, waiting.

He had been purposely shooting to miss, allowing Ororo to build her confidence.  After her sudden breakdown, Wolverine had no intentions of allowing her to return to that state.  That had scared him out of his mind, seeing Storm alternate so fast between scared child and full-on angry Goddess.  But now, Logan sighed, as he knew what he was going to have to do.  _Forgive me, darling._  As Storm raced by him, Logan took aim at her left thigh, and fired.  

Storm howled and dropped, balancing on her right leg, angry with herself for not evading the shot.  She immediately took back off, ready for another try.  

"Get down here, we better make sure you're alright, 'Ro."  With sad, yet unyielding eyes, Logan strode over and sat Ororo down.  Without speaking a word, he lifted Ororo's leg and looked carefully at the wound.  

"You've got an exit wound, you'll be fine."

Nodding, Storm turned to grab a towel.  She tied it around the wound to collect the rapidly escaping blood, and returned to the simulated alleyway.  "Ready, Logan?"  

"Yeah."  

Once more, Storm took to the skies above.  The robots had reset, and once more Storm had gone on the offensive against the metal opponents.  Logan was glad for one thing: her fighting style had changed from a reactive style to a more aggressive approach.  In his Japanese training, he had learned of three ways of fighting: _sen, go no sen, and sen sen no sen._  

While each of the terms carried with them a whole world of nuance that he couldn't even begin to explain, he was glad that Ororo had changed from a _go no sen_ mindset to a _sen _mindset.  _Go no sen_ implied a basic "block, then counter" mindset and attack plan, while _sen_ meant a simultaneous block and counter.  While Storm rarely blocked anything, after all, she eluded things too fast to block; she had always had a mindset of "I will not attack first."  It was time for her to realize that she needed to make the conscious choice of when something was going to escalate, not keep waiting for the other person to throw the proverbial first punch.

For someone who works so hard to control her emotions, it amazed him that Ororo continued to walk around, just bumping into stimuli and reacting.  Logan was never the most emotionally aware human; he had come to rely on his nose and other senses to do the work for him.  Storm's scent hadn't changed a bit, and she gave no outward signs of distress.  But, even he couldn't help but notice that she was withdrawn, but fighting with fierceness rarely matched.    

For weeks, this continued.  Storm would attempt to evade the gunfire, but Logan's marksmanship abilities combined with her mounting frustration made it impossible for her to progress much further.  


	5. Reflection, to look back and realize.

AN:  Damn, Remy is giving me problems writing him.  So, instead of his scheduled appearance here, I moved him back a chapter, and shoved this forward again.  Blasted Cajun.  Thanks to Rhapsody for the constant inspiration, and to SLH for the title note. :)  And to everyone else for being nice reviewers.

Why did that girl get to me?  What was in her that has created this drive?  I have tolerated failures and losses before.  Now, however, I cannot seem to move past that girl's death.  Or was the girl just a catalyst to force me to no longer rest on my achievements?  

Trailing her toes in the koi pond Logan built earlier in the year, Ororo sat and contemplated the past few months.  She created a light breeze to keep the hair off her face, and leaned back on her hands to allow the full effect of the air to rush over her.  It was calming, that light breeze.  Although she knew the power of the winds, the light gusts caused her the most joy.  Dressed in a light summer dress, she sat and attempted to fully sort out her feelings and problems before returning to the mansion.  

Perhaps in that brief second we made eye contact, I saw myself in that girl.  Young, scared, knowing that she held power, but unsure what to do with it.  I would like to say that I am past that, but am I?  I fight for the "greater good," only to turn around and have my work undone by someone more powerful than I.  I have limitations.  Maybe that is why I cannot seem to beat Logan.  Or maybe it is because I am playing into his hands.  There must be a way.

"Hey, 'Ro."  Returning from a walk in the woods, Logan happened to smell Storm's presence by the pond, and decided to come and sit with her.  

"Good evening, Logan.  What brings you here?"

Logan took off his shoes, placed his right foot in the water, and his left arm around Ororo before choosing to answer.

"Well, Goddess…"

"Do not call me that."

Puzzled, Logan cocked his head to the side, and looked into her eyes.  "What?"

"Do you know what the difference between myself and a goddess is, Logan?"

"What's that?"

"A goddess is infallible.  They cannot make mistakes.  I, however, am more than capable of doing so."

"Storm, that's what makes ya human."

Looking away from Logan, Ororo chose to focus on the lone fish nibbling at her toes.  "No.  That is what makes me a bad leader."

Taking the side of her chin, Logan forced her to look at him, rather than avoid this confrontation.  "I don't follow ya.  You're a damn good leader, and one little screw-up does not change that.  Ya can't beat yourself up over this girl.  It's over.  She's dead.  Ya ever gonna bury her and move on?"

Bracing an arm on his broad chest, Storm shoved Logan to arm's length.  "That is not…"

"Listen.  The reason you can't elude me in the Danger Room is that ya think too much.  Trying to analyze everythin' that passes by ya.  If you would shut off that, ya might have room to notice that I'm gonna fire.  I know that you've gotta devote half your brain to keeping your emotions in check and all, but did you ever think about what you're doing with the other half?"

Storm was silent for a moment, absorbing what Wolverine had told her.  Taking a deep breath, she drew her legs up, and rested her chin on her knees before continuing.  

"The problem of leadership is not within me, Logan.  I am a goddess to the team.  Infallible.  So, I do not get questioned like I should, nor am I allowed the opportunity to move past a mistake. Evidently, I am a goddess, so a perceived mistake should be covered with as much coddling as possible to not destroy my 'fragile ego.'"

Logan reached around and drew Ororo into a hug.  "When are you gonna realize that you are no longer controlling your emotions, your emotions are controlling you?"

Before she could retort, he stood and left.


	6. Realization, to arrive at an answer.

AN:  Yeah, yeah.  Longer chapters, I get it.  I have a tendency to break up scenes per chapter, or things that happen simultaneously.  It's just the way I write.  If Remy's accent is thoroughly screwed up, forgive me, please, and tell me how to write the damn thing.  Comments to reviewers at end.

"Now dis be t' Stormy I know!"  Without waiting for a response, Remy stepped inside the meticulously cared for greenhouse.  Much like Ororo's voice, the scents of the plants inside comforted him, providing one of the few constants in the thief's life.

"Do not call me by that ridiculous name!  And are you smoking?  Stamp out that toxin case before you take one step further!"

Remy just had to laugh.  Without even looking up, Storm had effectively rebuked him and invited him in within the same sentence.  "Non, 'Roro.  Remy jus' came from de bar, smell like smoke from 'dere."  A sudden sprinkle of water on his head made Remy yelp, and look up to see a small rain cloud hovering over him, washing him off.  "What's dat fo'?"

"You smell, Remy.  Someone had to do something before my plants choked."  Rounding the corner, she smiled at the now "drowned-rat" look of the Cajun before recalling her cloud.  

"Funny, 'Roro."

"I do believe it was.  Now, may I ask what brought you out here so late," looking at her watch, she amended her statement, "early in the morning?"  

As Storm turned to continue fertilizing her flowers, Remy leaned against the nearest planter, arms folded across his chest.  "Remy been worried 'bout you, Stormy.  You been so down lately, Remy couldn' help but be worried."

Smiling, Ororo walked over and briefly laid her hand on Remy's crossed arms before responding with a soothing tone.  "I am fine, Remy.  That girl's death must have affected me more than I had previously realized.  It is nothing more than another hurdle to cross, one I will do eventually."  A sad look entered and escaped her eyes before she hastily turned back to her prize lilies.  

In one fluid motion, Remy uncrossed his arms, pushed away from the planter, and placed his hands on Ororo's shoulders.  "You not foolin' Remy with dat act, 'Roro.  I know better.  'Dat girl's got you shook up, and you know it."  Remy could sense a protest coming on, so he continued.  "I'm hurt that my Stormy didn' tell me b'fore dat somet'ing was wrong."

A sigh.  "Remy, this was something I did not feel like broadcasting to the mansion.  'Hello!  I am not quite right!  Accept me as your leader anyway!'"  

"I ain't t' mansion, "Roro.  I'm your padnat."

"No matter.  I do not need to sit around and wallow in my own self-doubt.  I must get through this on my own."

Hopping up on the ledge, placed one leg on Ororo's left, the other on her right, trapping her from leaving.  "An' how long you been tryin' t' get t'rough dis on your own?  Since t' mission?  'Roro, dat was four months ago."

Effectively trapped, Storm conceded and hopped up on the ledge facing Remy.  "Some things take longer than others.  I have been through worse things, Remy.  As have you.  We both know that it will eventually pass."

"Non.  It won'."

Irritated, Storm bit out a reply.  "And why not?"

"'Cause you won' let it."  

"And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

Remy withdrew his legs from around Ororo, and used the kinetic energy from the retraction to launch himself off the ledge.  He leaped up next to Storm, wrapped one arm around her head, and drew it to his shoulder.  "'Cause you too wrapped up in bein' de leader."

"Remy, I am a leader.  I cannot simply abandon that post and go off to do Goddess knows what."

"But why you makin' your leadership your definin' characteristic?"

"What?  I am much more than a leader to this team, Remy."

"Name one thin' you are t' dis team dat has no'tin t' do wit' bein' a leader."

Hesitant, Ororo lifted her head up and searched Remy's red on black eyes for a purpose behind his line of questioning.  Finding no ulterior motives, she cocked her head a bit and answered, "I am a friend."

"Really?  And why is it, then, dat they not be friends to you?"

"What are you driving at, Gambit?"

"It not take a telepath t' see dat you're not right, Stormy.  And dey continued to pour on the requirements for you."

"And yet, you did nothing, either.  Stop being sanctimonious."

"Gambit know how much you like t' work t'ings out.  And he know dat you been getting training from de Wolverine.  I jus' realized that not be de help you need."

"So, you consider yourself my friend, while the others are not?"

"Oui.  And as your frien', I'm asking you to step down."  

Incensed, Ororo shoved herself off the ledge.  "Are you implying that I am unfit for leadership?"  Whirling around, she pointed her finger in Remy's lean chest, pressing her weight behind it.  "What sort of matter is this, Gambit?"

Reaching up, Remy gently removed Storm's finger, the thunder outside making him wary.  "Non, 'Roro.  I'm saying 'dat you're too concerned wit' everyon' else, and not enough wit' yourse'f.  And it obvious to Remy that you're not gonna fix yourse'f without taking yourse'f away from de pressure."

"And leave the entire duty to Scott?  I hardly find that fair, Remy."

"Fo'get fair, Scott's done that t' you enough.  How many times he left you in charge, withou' little more than a 'bye!'  You due, padnat, you due for your turn.  Why is it dat everyone in this house gets a chance, but you?  Why you not allowin' yourself?"  Easing himself down, Remy landed soundlessly on the soft earth below, and placed a small kiss in Storm's hair. "What are you afraid of?"  As he left, he called over his shoulder, "t'ink about it, Stormy."

And Storm was too shocked to reprimand him for the name.

Perhaps he is right.  Perhaps the best action is to take care of myself first.  And that would be a first.  It's much more comfortable to take care of others; taking care of their needs allows me to ignore my own gnawing pains.  But, if I do not, then how long will it be before I fall again?  I do not trust myself on another mission, I am not ready.  How do I fix this?  Anger, venting, meditation, they have all failed. And burying myself further helps no one.  I know what I must do, but I am not sure I can do it.   

Tapping his foot impatiently, Logan waited in the Danger Room for Storm to show for their daily sessions.  He hoped yesterday's talk had done her some good, however, when he happened to catch her eye later that night, Ororo's eyes were lost in another world.  Sighing, he exited the Danger Room to return to his room.  If she didn't want to practice, he had some errands to run.  On his way down to the front door, he overheard Gambit pleading with Storm over something.

"But, Gambit don' t'ink…"

"This is my decision.  I was forced into it."

"Forced?"

"Yes.  After considering what you said, and what others have said, this is the only possible route I can see."

"Remy's glad you doin' this, chere, but…"

"Please, just accept it, and keep my confidence.  I do not want the whole team trailing me to my destination.  Only you and Jean know where I shall be, and have the means to contact me in case of emergency."

"What about th' others?  Don't they get a chance?"

"And have Scott calling me every time one of our enemies sneezes too hard?"

"What about th' Wolverine?  He would wanna know, Gambit's sure."

"Yes, and I plan on telling him, when I work up the confidence.  _Pause._  Or when I can find a good piece of paper to write it on and throw at him on my way out."  

Logan heard Remy laugh, and decided to continue on.  Steps slowed, he pondered over where Storm would take off to that she would so desire to keep quiet.  After all, the names of countries in Africa changed so fast that she could tell them a specific country, and by the next week, that information would be outdated.  Where else would she head off to, though?

"Logan?  May I speak to you for a moment?"

AN2:  Look!  I can write a longer chapter!  Huzzah!  And now, since your constant prodding is compelling me to write this instead of computer code, I'd better respond to you all.

Rhapsody:  Umm…I just save it as an .htm document.  Italics just carry over from Frontpage or Word.  And the lettering?  I write everything in 10 pt Arial.  And, as you can tell, it doesn't always bloody work.  Grrr.  Thanks for your encouragement.

Nina:  I'm glad you're enjoying this; my plan is to swing the pendulum in the other direction now, ignoring her brain, and see where that leads her. ;)

Lori, Icequeen, and Stormgirl302: Thanks. :)

SLH:  Look!  I did Remy!  And Pete, did I screw up his accent!

Stormfreak:  She'll get all those…eventually.  And I'm not referring to the G-rated version. ;)


	7. Resignation, to give up.

AN:  Pika pika!

Turning, Logan saw Ororo behind him, and paused to allow the tall woman to catch up.  "Yeah, darlin'?"  

Scanning the area, Storm observed both Cyclops and Rogue wandering the halls, and frowned.  "Would you mind taking a quick detour to the attic?"

Logan drew his eyebrows together for a brief moment, then shrugged, releasing the momentary confusion.  "Sure.  Let's go."

As they were ascending the stairs, Logan noticed that the tall woman's posture was ramrod straight, bordering on the edge of inability to move.  She was nervous about something, but what exactly it was, he wasn't sure.  In fact, if he could have seen the fine, downy hairs on the back of her neck, he was sure they would be bristling with alarm.  Thing was, she didn't smell nervous.  That worried him more than all the non-verbal clues put together.  People can't mask or change their base scents, Logan thought, so if she's so outwardly on edge, why isn't it palpable to the nose?  

Upon arriving at the attic floor, Ororo swiftly turned the knob, led Logan inside, and clicked the door shut behind him.  She sat down on the lip of her overstuffed mattress, and brought her feet under her, taking a deep breath before exhaling it in one quick motion.  And, in that exhalation, Logan figured out why he couldn't smell her nervousness: shame.  Shame disguises all other scents, throwing them all off.  The mind becomes so fixated on its remorse; it messes with the body's natural chemistry.  Shame doesn't have a scent by itself, but wreaks havoc with the few that are tangible.  

"I have to leave, Logan."  A sad note, regretful even, as Storm looked down at an imperfection in the wood floor, focusing on that rather than the man in front of her.

Puzzled, Logan tried to find the weather witch's eyes, but settled on looking at the part in her hair.  "For how long?"

"I do not know."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Logan leaned back against the far wall.  "Why are ya telling me this in secret?  Shouldn't this be a team meeting thing?"  

"No."  Scooting back a bit, Ororo made enough purchase on the bed to hug her knees to her chest.  "They cannot know that I had to leave."

"Ain't they gonna find out anyway?  It's not as if they won't notice you're gone."

"Really, Logan?  You are correct, they will eventually notice, once someone needs a problem solved, or to cry somewhere.  Until that point, they will not."

"So, you're gonna leave because you're unappreciated?  Seems like the bitch way out to me."

Ororo slammed her feet down, rose and walked over to the feral man, eyes dangerously shifting from blue to white.  "What did you call me?"

If Logan was nervous, he didn't show it.  "A coward.  Instead of confronting your problems, you're running."

Rolling her eyes, Ororo spun around in a dramatic gesture.  "Oh ho ho ho…. this is rich, coming from someone who runs off to Canada every time the slightest mental problem occurs!"

Eyes narrowing in irritation, Logan fixed the smirking Goddess with a glare.  "That's different.  I'm running to make sure I don't hurt you all, not running from the others.  Something in your head's different."

"And by the Goddess, Logan," Storm replied in exasperation, "what do you think I am running from?  Honestly, you must not know me at all to think that I am running from the problems of others."  

Logan nodded in recognition, and laid a hand on Ororo's arm.  "Where are ya going to clear your head?"  

"Japan, to visit Yukio."

"And ya think that'll work?  That she'll help you?"  

Ororo turned, and sat back down on her bed, Logan following, and setting his heavy form next to her.  "She helped me cope with the complete loss of my powers, Logan.  I would believe that she could assist me with dealing in a mere insecurity over them."

"Darlin', I hate ta say this, but you've been out of control lately.  Mentally, and physically.  Ya think that the best decision is to go room up with someone who makes you wilder?"  

"Yes.  As you said yourself, my emotions are ruling me.  Yukio may be able to help me reverse that." 

"She who lives on impulse and emotion alone, helping ya control your emotions?  Hardly!"

Ororo let out a sharp breath, and angrily spun to face Wolverine.  "Oh, and what would you have me do, oh wise one?  Control over emotions is hardly my problem; I can do that quite well.  I need an opportunity to release my current control, and rebuild it from the ground up.  This time, instead of walling off the emotion, I shall learn how to not let them overwhelm me."

Sighing, Logan conceded.  "Fine.  So, you're off to Japan for who knows how long.  Who all's gonna know where you are?"

"Yourself, Jean, and Remy.  Everyone else shall be led to believe that I am off on a mission."

"What do ya think One-eye and Chuck are gonna say?"

"Scott will merely be peeved that he was not let in on the 'mission.'  The Professor, I do not know."

"Why aren't you telling Chuck?"

Ororo laid her head on the cool, dark wood of her four-poster bed.  "Because it would be akin to telling him that his help teaching me mentally led to this."

"I thought the girl led to this."

"Yes, but it was just the culmination of years of this sort of work.  It was bound to happen, and I can't just fix my physical abilities to compensate anymore."

Logan draped one hairy arm around Ororo's shoulders, pulling her into his chest.  "Just don't come back with another mohawk, alright?"

Laughing, Storm got a thoughtful look on her face.  "Buzz cut?  Shaved?  I know, spiked!"

Logan joined in her laughter for a bit, and then asked, "When are you headed off?" 

"Tommorow.  My first stop is a minute, deserted island in the Indonesian region."

"Why are ya going there?"

"To stop a massive hurricane."

"But there isn't one that I've heard about."

"I know.  I must first create it."

AN 2:  Next chapter, we kick it into a higher gear, cause Stormy's gonna meet back up with Yukio!

Lori and Rhapsody:  No, Logan won't go with her, but that doesn't mean he can't follow her. ;)  He just might decide to up and head off to "visit."

RAP, Sarge, and niala:  Thanks!

Icequeen:  Only if by "perfect job," you meant "horrid, should never have seen the light of day" job.  Sigh, when Remy reappears, maybe I'll have him speak in French.  I can write that.

SLH:  Thanks, I'll certainly keep that in mind for our Cajun friend, that's a huge help.  


	8. Purging, to eradicate and expel.

AN:  Well, the reviews I got made me change my original plans.  Don't worry; I think it'll work out for the best.  

__________

Riding the winds of a plane could never compare to riding the winds while free.  Sure, both transport you to your destination, but something about the manipulation made all the difference.  People wonder how such a large hunk of metal could manage to stay airborne, but it was simple physics.  The air rushing over and under the wings allowed the plane to fly.  However, feeling the winds rush over you; that was a completely different story.

Ororo had made the decision before she left to take a plane for the majority of the trip.  Sure, she could fly it, but that would tax her energy reserves more than she cared to admit.  However, as she stared out the window into the clouds, she felt the longing to throw wide the door and jump into the winds.  Play with the St. Elmo's fire dancing around, wave hello to the young child in back, and release the minor claustrophobia.  Choices to make at a later venture, because for now, she was stuck with just imagining it.    

Once the plane touched down, and Ororo made her way to baggage claim, she took in a deep breath to steady her nerves.  Her instincts screamed for her to turn back around and return to the mansion, where she was leader.  Leadership was easy, dealing with others' problems cake.  Dealing with your own?  That mirror was harsh and unforgiving.  Grabbing her light bag from the rack, Storm walked out of the small island airport, and walked around to the back.  Glancing around, she saw no one watching, so she took to the skies, heading due south.

After approximately two hours, she spotted the small sandbar of an island, isolated from the rest of the archipelago.  She touched down, secured her bag to the lone tree, and sat down to meditate.  Once her head was clear, she rose again, letting her body drift over the water.  A good distance away, she raised her hands to command the winds towards her.  Taking hold of the currents, she sculpted them to create a stationary, circular pattern.  Satisfied, she allowed the circle to continue as she returned to the sand, and went to sleep.

While she slumbered, the winds continued on their track.  Spiraling inward, they merged with the naturally warm water to create a basic storm pattern.  As the perpetual spiral continued, it drew up more warmth, and expanded the storm at a rapid pace.  Where normally a hurricane would take weeks to form, Storm's crafting sped the process to a matter of hours.  

A loud crackle of thunder woke Ororo from her nap, and she stood, surveying her hurricane.  If it were to be rated, she guessed that it would be on par with Category Three hurricanes; massive enough to do heavy damage to even secured buildings.  Inhaling, Storm floated up, and created a path into the eye of the hurricane, where she sat for minutes, closing her eyes.

Once she opened her eyes, she let out a primal scream, and tore off her clothing.  Suspended exposed in the eye of the storm, Ororo threw her head back, and called down a bolt of lightning to sear through her body, and out into the edges of the hurricane.  Another yell tore from her throat as she snapped her arms parallel to her shoulders, and attempted to stop the hurricane.  

She was fighting against her own creation, the spiral nature of the winds in conflict with her attempts to straighten them out.  Luckily, a hurricane has no will of its own, so in one final surge of power, the storm stopped, and died out.  Panting, Storm managed to position herself over the island, and dropped heavily onto the sand beneath.  There, she slipped into unconsciousness.  

Two days later, she awoke, ready to leave the island.  Opening her pack, she removed the food she had brought with her, and carried it with her as she flew to Japan. While in the air, she redressed herself in casual clothing.  No need to show up in Japan naked. Once over the Nippons, she landed, and made her way to the nearest phone booth.  

"H'lo?"

"Yukio?  This is Ororo."

"Windrider?  What're you up to?"

"Actually, I am in Japan at the moment, and…"

"Say no more!  Get yourself over here, we've got some catching up to do!"

"Thank you.  I shall be there in around an hour."

"See ya!"

Ororo placed the receiver back on the cradle, and took back to the air in search of Yukio's home.  Upon arrival, Ororo couldn't even knock on the door before Yukio threw open the door and embraced Storm.

"Windrider!  It's so good to see you!"

Returning the hug, Ororo smiled down.  "I feel the same way, Wild One.  May I come in?"

"Sure, sure.  Excuse the mess.  I'd say that I normally keep it neater, but hey, I'd be lying."

Ororo laughed.  It was good to see her dear friend again, even though that meant being apart from her old friends.  

"So, 'Ro, tell me why you're here."

Taking a seat on the battered couch, Ororo recanted the tale of the girl, and how she came to the decision to come to Japan.  The whole while, Yukio listened patiently, sincerity written on her face.  

"…and there would be the end.  I am here now."

Clasping her hands together, Yukio smiled a devil's grin.  "Well, then.  I know what you need first."

"And what would that be?"

"A man."

"What?"  Mouth hanging open, Ororo sat forward in disbelief.

Laughter dancing in her dark eyes, Yukio tried to keep a straight face.  "What, a woman, then?"

"No!  Why is my solution a relationship?"

Yukio snorted, and draped an arm around her friend.  "Who said anything about a relationship?  Girl, you need to get laid."

"Where did you manage to ascertain that from my story?"  Sputtering, Ororo stood to gain some distance.  

"Didn't have to.  You walked in here looking like you needed that."  

"And what makes you say that?"

Yukio stood, and placed two fingers deep into the juncture where shoulder muscle meets neck.  When Ororo winced, and drew away, Yukio nodded.  "Your shoulders are up near your ears.  Classic sign that you need to relax."

Incredulous, Ororo flopped back down on the couch, unable to speak.  Yukio laughed, and sat down again next to Ororo.  "Alright, no need to panic.  We won't pick up men tonight.  Let's work on dumping off all the things you're clinging to.  First, this concept that you carry the world.  Nope.  Leave it back at the mansion, girl."

____________

For a month, Yukio and Ororo worked on divorcing Ororo's feelings that she was required to be everything to everyone at all times.  They never did go out man-hunting, at Ororo's insistence.  

However, Yukio had given Ororo a month time limit.  And that month was up as of today.  Once both parties were dressed, Yukio led the way to a remote mountaintop in rural Japan.  While they were standing up there, Ororo kept pressing her friend as to why they had come up so far.  Yukio had remained silent, until now.

"Are you ready, Windrider?"

"Yes, but for what, may I ask?"

"Good.  Because you make me sick.  Coming all this way out here to escape your troubles, but you still think you're better than the rest of us.  Guess what, Goddess, it ain't working.  I've seen you at your worst, and you're not fooling anyone.  You're little more than a sniveling, cowardly bitch that can't even stay up after one shot."

The crack of thunder was Ororo's response.

_______________________

A month.  What in the ever-loving name of Pete could 'Ro need a month for?  She'd been gone too long without contacting him, Remy, or Jean.  Logan paced his room, growing more resolved by the moment.  And everyone else was nonchalant over the whole thing.  Not him.  Not the Wolverine.  He took action.  

Throwing some basics into a duffel bag, Logan scrawled a cryptic note to Jean, and left it on his dresser.  Logan was off to Japan.

__________________

AN2:  So, we gonna have a fried self-proclaimed ronin?  And what's Logan doing?  Like I know yet, I haven't got there.  So don't ask me.  :P  I wasn't originally going to have Logan follow, but after at least three of you nudged me that way, I decided to.  It'll work, and it gave me an awesome idea.

Stormfreak:  See?  I posted the darn thing.  Off my case! :P

Jubes2861:  I would do the trip, but my comic knowledge is very limited, and Madripoor isn't in that database.  Sorry.

Icequeen, Rhapsody, and Nikita:  Look!  There goes wolf-boy, off to find our goddess.  Thanks for the support.

Trilogy:  Fine, no throttling.  A menacing shaking of a spork work? ;)  And thanks!


	9. Breakthrough, to surpass old notions.

AN:  What a fine day for science!  I've been on a roll with this story, but my other ones are leaving me cold…I just can't do _Jailbait _right now.  Grah.  Credit goes to Dave Barry for the airplane inspiration.

Snap!  A branch was violently ripped off the tree as the winds vividly amplified to form gusts strong enough to remove shingling.  On occasion, a small bolt of lightning would arc down and strike the surrounding snow-capped landscape.  Unconcerned, Yukio stood, a smirk firmly set on her angular face.  However, her friend was not so nonchalant.

"How dare you accuse me of such nonsense!  And then stand there smiling!  Give me one reason why I should not strike you down where you stand."

Shrugging, Yukio casually walked over to the lit up Windrider, and placed a finger on her chest, wincing a bit as she received a jolt from the built up electricity stored inside Storm.  "Because you're acting like a foolish kid that gets angry every time things don't go your way.  Something bad happens, it's your fault, you can't handle it, and so you pick up your toys and run home.  You're no leader, you're a poser."

"What?"  Energy exploded outward, causing Yukio to have to dig her hands into the snow to remain on the mountaintop.  "You stand there and call me such things, and then say I am the spoiled child?  Retract it now!"  With the last word in her statement, a bolt of lightning struck close enough to give Yukio a slight proximity burn.  

Yukio looked up, and held Storm's eyes for a tense moment.  "Bitch."

_______________________

Logan had to wonder how people with IQs less than fifty managed to function.  While trapped on the plane to Japan, the person next to him had not shut up, remarking no less than ten times how it was "so interesting that they were both going to Japan."  No crap, Sherlock.  That would be why they're both on a plane.  And, to top it off, the idiot on the aisle was encouraging this behavior, by participating in the random neural firing session.  Logan dearly wished to open the window, and throw them both out.  Of course, the harder he tried to ignore it, the more of a traitor his brain was by focusing on their riveting conversation.

"And then, I found this great sale."

"Really?  You never find peaches that price up North.  Now, my son…"

Or maybe he would just jump out of the window himself.

________________________

Ororo's struggle to hold back the tide of destruction was becoming harder and harder by the second.  She was visibly shaking and sweating with the effort it took not to obliterate both the girl in front of her and the ground beneath their feet.  "Yukio, I give you one last chance.  I will end this."  Her concentration was slipping, as a wandering bolt struck Storm in the back, the unexpected blow causing her to scream.  

"Stop it."  Without any sort of airs, Yukio replied as if this were a peaceful dinner conversation.

The pure white orbs widened.  "What?"

"Stop it.  Stop the light show."

"Oh, all right.  I understand."  Taking deep breaths, Storm began to quell her temper, bringing the raging weather into check with the action.

"No, I said stop it."

"What do you think I am doing?"

"Stopping yourself.  Stop the weather, let yourself remain angry."

Instead of the concentrated anger the storm once had, Ororo's confusion made the patterns erratic.  Hail fell next to snow, which was pierced with lightning.  "But, they are connected.  You know that!  My emotions determine the weather!"

"They don't have to.  Stop the weather."

Ororo closed her eyes, and began to organize the patterns before beginning the process to have them peter out.  Yukio saw that her emotions were settling along with the freshly fallen snow, and yelled once again.  "Do you not hear me, you pitiful excuse for a leader?"

Storm's eyes snapped open, but she continued to quell the hail and lightning.  Anger was radiating off her, but the weather was no longer reflecting that.  As Yukio and Storm's eyes locked, the errant climate calmed, and settled into a gentle snowfall.  Ororo's eyes changed to their pure blue, and she collapsed into the white powder.  Yukio rushed to her side, and cradled Ororo's head on her lap.  "Good job, Windrider.  I knew you could do it."  Ororo smiled, and drifted off into a well-earned sleep. 

__________________________

Getting off that plane proved to be a soothing balm for Wolverine.  Free of the blather, he stalked over to the curb, and called for a taxi.  Storm had been kind enough to provide Yukio's phone number, and a quick reverse lookup brought Logan Yukio's address.  After telling the driver where to go, Logan settled back against the seat.  His 'Ro had been gone for too long for him to stay still any longer.  

_______________

"Mon ami?"  Remy knocked on the doorframe.  "Wolverine?"  When Remy received no answer, he swung open the door to find a note on Logan's dresser.  He read it, and shook his head.  "Remy hope Wolverine knows what he's doin'."

______________

AN2:  If anyone can permanently keep that damned "Butt Ugly Martians" commercial off my television forever, I will break down and worship you.  Oh well, sparks are gonna fly when Ororo, Yukio, and Logan all meet.  And it ain't romantic sparks. ;)

Ninamonkey:  Yeah, the sparks are gonna be hot.  But, isn't lightning hot, anyway? ;)

Rhiannon:  I worked hard on that hurricane part, so I'm very glad to hear it.  You made my day!

Rhapsody:  Thank you for sticking that song in my head!  AHHH!!!  I'm on the night train… :P

Nikita:  Thanks!

Revelation and Scififreak:  Yeah, but is he gonna like it when he sees her? ;)


	10. Decision, to create a resolution.

AN:  Yeah, last chappie was short…kinda an intentional deal, so I could set this puppy up.  This little section was inspired by Stormfreak's story title "Give it Up, Turn it Loose."  Stuck a song in my head, and away we go…

_Why don't you turn it loose? _

"Wild One?"  

"Easy, Windrider.  Lay back here for a moment."  Plump pillows lay under Storm's head, and buffeting her body, protecting her from moving too much.  "You must have had some nightmare, girl.  You were causing all sorts of noise, and threw yourself off the bed."  Eyes dancing, Yukio turned away to gather a few small needles, and called over her shoulder, "You're too heavy for me to be lifting you around.  Sure that Cajun friend of yours hasn't been feeding you too much?"

Storm laughed.  "Are you calling me fat, Yukio?"

Yukio turned back around, lighter and small glass globe in hand.  "Turn over, and take off your shirt.  I need to cup your back."  

Doing as she was told, Ororo tried to relax as Yukio spread the flame-retardant gel approximately a palm below Storm's right shoulder blade.  "Now, lean to your right."  Shrugging, Ororo bent her body up, exposing her left ribs.  "Hmmm."

"What?  What is the matter?"

Yukio poked Ororo's right side.  "Yup, got a bit of a roll there.  Sheesh, you leave here and get all soft on me."

Flinging her head around, Storm almost smacked Yukio in the face with her long white hair.  "There is not a 'roll' there, and I am…"  Yukio's howling laughter gave her pause, as she realized she had been taken.  "Oh, just fix me."  Laying flat on her stomach, Storm could hear the lighter catch, and smell the sulfur in the air.  When she heard a bit of a flare up, she tried not to tense, as the paper was thrown into the glass globe, and then the open-mouthed globe was placed on Storm's smooth back.  The gel and lack of oxygen extinguished the flame, and created a vacuum, drawing layers of Storm's skin convexly up into the glass cup.  

"So, how do you feel, 'Ro?"  While the cup sat, drawing all the stagnation to the surface, Yukio questioned her friend.  

Still facing the floor, Storm sighed.  "It is odd, knowing that I must fully sever the emotional connection to my powers before restructuring it.  I fear that I have a long way to go, and the anger is exhausting."

Yukio fiddled with the cup currently on Storm's back, and spread more gel for another to be placed near her kidney.  "Well, that's why we don't make you angry all the time."

Even though Yukio could not see the creases, she could feel her friend's slight frown.  "And what else could there be that creates such a dramatic shift?  I cannot foresee myself stopping the sun from shining brighter because I am extremely happy."

Another burst of light, and another glass cup applied.  "An orgasm."

Perhaps Yukio was doing more than just curing Storm's stagnated blood, because if it weren't for the cups on her back, Ororo would have been out the window, face burning.  "You…you cannot be serious."

With a sucking noise, followed by a pop, Yukio pulled off the top glass, and frowned at the results.  "You're showing it pretty well, Windrider.  You've got a lot caught in there.  Too much stagnated energy.  I'm gonna have to use a few needles."  While Yukio had never been fully trained as an acupuncturist, she picked up bits and pieces in order to treat herself while in her periods of hiding.  Storm nodded her consent, and Yukio got off the bed to gather her fine needles.  "Anyway, Storm, an orgasm is an involuntary reaction, right?  So, wouldn't it make sense for you to learn how to control yourself from making the weather go nuts, even in bed?"

"Well…I guess."

"Good."

"But, I am hardly in control over my anger yet.  I must complete that before moving on."

"OK then."

__________________

Handing the taxi driver a few bills, Logan stepped onto the clean sidewalk.  He knew that Yukio lived in this building, luckily on the end with a balcony.  So, naturally, Logan climbed the stairs of the next building, and perched on the balcony of the adjoining building.  Peering in, he thanked whoever above that Storm was in there, and she looked well.  Trying to balance such as not to creak the metal below him, Wolverine mentally debated going over and seeing how she was doing up close.

He shook his head at the notion; he was here to observe, and far be it from him to somehow interfere in 'Ro's progress.  Squinting, he could see her smile, and laugh at something Yukio must have said.  That brought a smile to his face.  It had been too long since he saw a sincere, involuntary smile come across his dear friend's face.  Too damn long to be healthy.  And damned if he hadn't been helping her right along into depression.  Dumping more responsibilities on, assuming that they wouldn't be a problem.  Damn.  For all his exacting senses, he was utterly blind to Ororo's sadness.  Damn.

______________________

"Put your arms by your sides, and relax."  Yukio felt along Storm's lean arm, found her point, and tapped a delicate needle in with a flick of the fingernail.  "So, what's your goal, 'Ro?"

"I…I do not really know.  And that is what scares me.  I just want out of this helpless feeling."

Another needle tapped into another line, and Storm's muscles involuntarily contracted as the electric feeling ran across her triceps.  Straddling Storm's lower back, Yukio reached up, felt along the outside of Ororo's ear, and carefully placed another needle into the cartilage.  "Hmmm.  You're hardly helpless, Windrider.  Even if you can't use your powers, you're pretty damned good with a knife or gun."

Yukio pulled the cup off Ororo's area over her kidney, and massaged it a bit.  "Yukio, that is hardly the point.  I know that I am one of the strongest mutants alive, and that I can street fight.  But that did not prevent my failure, nor does it buffet me from the other things I must face."

"Girl, you've got some serious stuff backed up.  It's rare I can see the stagnation through the skin, but it's black as night back here.  Hold on."  Yukio swung one leg over, and got up off the bed.  Rummaging through a drawer, she produced a small handheld mirror.  Leaning it against Storm's skin, she allowed Ororo to look over her shoulder, and see the ugly bruise that had formed on her skin.  It was as if an octopus had attacked her, a perfectly dark and ugly circle springing up to mar her otherwise chocolate flesh tone.  Once again astride the goddesses' back, Yukio lit what looked like a fleshy stick, and produced a pungent smell.  "So, what are you going to do about it?  What you wanna accomplish?"

"I…I…wish to be aggressive."  

Leaning down, Yukio held the smoking herbs over one of the needles in Ororo's arm.  "Tell me when you can feel the heat in your muscle."  Storm nodded, and took a deep breath.  "Aggressive?  Since when?"

"Since I decided that passivity was not getting me anywhere."

"And when did you decide that?"

"About the same time I decided to come visit you."

"So, you associate me mentally with aggressiveness?"  Yukio chuckled.  "Excellent."

Ororo suddenly twitched, and drew away.  "I can feel it."  

"Good."  Yukio drew the smoldering aromatic plant away, and blew on it.  She twirled the needle, and placed the herb near the needle's top once more.  "One more time, 'Ro."

"I feel it."  Yukio pulled the herb away, and placed it in the glass cup she had used previously.  She then extracted each of the needles from Ororo's arm and ear, and bode her to redress.  "So, we start again tommrow?"

"Yes."  Pulling her shirt down over her head, Ororo drew the curtain of her hair out from her back.  

Yukio raised an eyebrow.  "You sure you're ready to be aggressive, girl?"

"I must learn how to be the aggressor before I learn how to be passive without harming my chances."

"OK.  Your call."

_________________

Logan hopped down to the ground below, and walked toward the nearest hotel.  He would watch and bide his time.  Let 'Ro do what she feels she has to do, and he'll keep watching.  That is, until he feels he has to interfere.  

AN2: OK, I promised a confrontation.  So, I lied.  Ah well.  They will all meet, I promise.  I just needed a bit more set up to form my what's gonna go down.  That will happen next chapter.  Really.  Ah, quit looking at me like that.  

Stormfreak:  Yeah, that would.  So, you go write it.  I can barely write a kiss without blushing. :P

Rhiannon:  A little force, a little coercion…it's all a good mix!

Ninamonkey: She ain't done controlling it.  Time to swing the pendulum the other way!

Rhapsody:  "Night Train."  Again and again and again….oh, Yukio and Logan will make nice.  It just ain't Storm who can play well with others… ;)


	11. Reaction, to respond to an outside stimu...

AN:  Ever and ever you're wound, forever and ever I've found.  An extra-long chapter…I promised they would meet, but there was too damn much to set up. Thanks to Stormfreak for the research help.  And now, we swing the pendulum the other way…

_____________

"Fight it, girl.  I know you can…ahhh!"  A sudden stray burst of snow knocked Yukio to the ground, causing her cheering to falter.  She stood back up, and yelled into the wind once more.  She knew logically that Ororo was in the center of the whiteout, but she could not see her friend.  Between Ororo's white hair, and white outfit whipping around her, Yukio could only catch flashes of the darker complexion hidden within the snow walls.  

Storm was a very fitting nickname.  But, maybe Blizzard would be more apt at the moment, for Ororo stood in the eye of a snowstorm she had created, the flurry racing around her, biting into her pores.  A scream, coupled with a burst of energy served to merely pacify the squall for a moment.  

"Come on, 'Ro!  You can do it!  You did it before!"

Another scream, another pulse of light, and the winds halted, stopping the snow from a swirl to a gentle fall.  Ororo gasped for air as the remaining snow settled into the bank.  

"Good job, 'Ro.  You're not even faint yet?"

"No, I am not.  I am tired, yes, but who would not be?"

"When are you gonna stop this, 'Ro?"

Storm sat down, looking out over the countryside.  "Stop what?"

"Devoting yourself so hard to stopping your natural reactions that you're missing the point."

For two months now, Ororo had been coming up to the mountain, creating a storm in anger, and then soothing it.  Each day, she had been gaining a bit of ground, each time the challenges less.  

And for two months, Logan had been watching from afar, cheering her on mentally.

"There has been an odd side effect, Wild One.  I find it harder, and today, near impossible to create the storms in my anger.  My anger is not creating them by itself, I have to help it along."

Smiling, Yukio laid her hand on Storm's shoulder.  "Isn't that what you wanted?  To have the anger and all not create the problem in the first place?"

"Yes."

"So, you ready to move on?"

Worry lines betrayed the innocent question.  "What do you mean?"

"That you're still being a coward."

A heated flash of anger shot through Ororo's body like magma before she calmed it with her will.  "I do not understand.  I have faced my emotional and weather connection, and beaten it.  How am I still being a coward?"

"What about all that other stuff you bury?  Just because you don't stare at it in the mirror doesn't mean it isn't there!"

"Back off, Yukio."

Yukio turned away from Ororo and looked out over the sea.  "No.  I'm your friend, and as your friend, I'm gonna call it like I see it.  Your problem with that damned girl; it was buried in there with the rest of the X-Men!  They've royally screwed you over, 'Ro."

Ororo dug her hands into the snow, feeling for the earth underneath.  "How can you say that about my family?  They have given me direction, purpose!"

"All that, but twice now, you've come to me because they haven't done shit for you.  You lose your powers, I drag you out.  You break down so completely you can barely function, you come to me.  Tell me, what were the last words that Scotty-boy said to you?"

A whisper.  "Would you mind taking my class over for a month?  I'm busy."

"Such the caring bunch.  And this is what you follow, what you aspire to?  To not notice others' pain?"

"No!"  Anger exploded outward, and Ororo's muscles involuntarily stiffened, as her breathing sped up.  

__________________

Logan's ears perked up.  Ororo was in a classic "fight or flight" response.  Despite the fact that she could fly, he had a feeling she wasn't inclined to fly the friendly skies anytime soon.

__________________

Rounding the corner, a man happened to see an obviously tall dark-skinned woman with white hair sitting on the mountain.  Curious, he walked up, oblivious to the exchange taking place between the two women.  

"Yukio, do you really want to see how much I can notice pain?"

"Threats do nothing, Wind Rider.  I'm not the one you're even angry at.  You're angry with yourself.  You know, you brag that you're in such control, but everyone else controls your life.  Sure, you can control your powers now, but can you control yourself?"

Ororo's anger grew, but with no real focus to unleash it on, she was quickly becoming highly unstable.  Just then, the visitor tripped, and fell, creating a sudden noise behind both Ororo and Yukio.  The unexpected sound tripped Ororo's last reserves, and she whirled around, and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt.  Eyes whited over, she prepared to strike this intruder down, when she was grabbed by Yukio.  

"Drop him, Wind Rider!"

Ororo's anger quickly subsided, and she released the man, who ran off as fast as he could push his legs away from the pair.  "What did I do, Yukio?  I…I just almost killed a man because he made a sound!"

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't."

"Then what's the problem?  Come on, let's go get some ice cream.  All this snow's making me crave it."   

Rolling her eyes, Ororo pointed out, "Yukio, a heat wave makes you crave ice cream.  Snow makes you crave ice cream.  What does not make you crave ice cream?"

A twinkle in her eye, Yukio began to sprint off before tossing her reply over her shoulder.  "Seeing your extra stomach rolls doesn't make me crave ice cream!"

"Yukio!"  With a burst of wind, Ororo was after her in a flash.

___________________

As much as he enjoyed watching Ororo perform, Logan was glad that the snow had stopped.  Even though he was a Canadian, the body had certain tolerance limits, and the freezing temperatures accompanying the snow were wearing a bit thin.  After all, some had managed to slip in his underwear last time, and nothing is quite as cold as a bit of snow against your privates.  

Straightening up from his crouch, he frowned.  He would have to work on 'Ro's awareness skills.  After all, he'd been around for two months now, and she hadn't noticed him?  Of course, he noted, she hadn't noticed much.  Her demeanor had changed, also.  Almost…cold. 

Hopping down the mountain, Wolverine became lost in thought.  No, not cold.  That was previously.  The untouchable ice princess routine, as if she was still on that goddess platform, serving her lower subject's whims.  No, it wasn't cold.  What was the word he was searching for?

Extending his claws with a *skint*, Logan dug one set deep into a tree, propped his foot against the trunk, and swung himself up onto the nearest strong branch.  He retracted his claws, and squatted on the sturdy limb.  Maybe distant?  Is that what 'Ro had become?  No, because she was very open to Yukio, it seemed.  There they were, mingling through the crowded streets below.  

Mister?  Do you need help?

Glancing down, Logan spied a young, inquisitive boy looking up in wonder at the beast turned man above him.  

No, kid.  Thank you, though.

Bowing, the little boy ran off, most likely to tell his friends that he had seen a real life werewolf, a _gajin_ one at that.  Growling, Logan leaped to the pavement, and gave one last look at the disappearing backs of Storm and Yukio.  Ororo had conquered her problem in his eyes; it was time to come home.

____________________

"Hey, 'Ro?  Let's go out tonight."

"What do you mean?"

Toweling dry her long white hair, Ororo emerged from the bathroom clad in a long terry cloth robe.  Spying a pair of shoes peering up over the couch back, Storm walked over to the ratty davenport, and leaned over it to talk to the reclining Yukio.

"Well, I mean go to a club, dance hall, spray painting cars…something that does not involve powers, responsibility, or my positive encouragement."  Deftly twirling a knife between her fingers, Yukio stared up at the ceiling, not even paying mind to the flashing metal.  "Well, unless I'm positively encouraging you to use a little more tongue."  Momentarily halting the repetitive motion, Yukio used her free hand to flash a "V for victory sign" at Ororo.

Ororo frowned, and dropped the damp towel over Yukio's face.  "Did we not already have this discussion?  I do not feel like 'guy-hunting.'  That is not why I came over here."

Removing the towel and tossing it to the ground, Yukio sat up and ran a hand through her short hair.  She placed her knife back in its sheath, and rolled her eyes.  "I didn't mention hunting for dicks, now did I?  You need to loosen up.  You've become a bit snappy lately."

"Snappy?  What do you mean?"

"Ever since you've been all control girl, you've been on edge, like you're gonna snap."

Sighing, Ororo retreated into her bedroom to find some clothes.  "I was going to 'snap' when I came over here, Wild One.  I am better now."

Still on the couch, Yukio leaned against the back to project her voice.  "Sure you are.  You're not going to cry now.  You just swapped crying for testiness."

Ororo rifled through the small drawer set.  "Yes, because I am temporarily severing my constant connection with the weather, I may not be as calm, but I am hardly a picture of fury!"

Yukio shrugged her shoulders.  "Deny it if ya want.  But, I'm not giving up on a club!"

"Fine!  Whatever!  Will that get you off my case?"

"For tonight."

"You are hopeless."

"Of course."

____________________

The pounding, blaring music did not thrill Logan in the slightest.  However, this club was one of the few places in town that didn't go out of their way to make an outsider uncomfortable.  And, it was the only place he knew of in town where he could find a Canadian beer.  So, alone he sat, pondering how to tell 'Ro to come home over a pint.  

Her behavior still bothered him, though.  That outburst today sent a chill up his spine.  Animalistic?  Was that the word?  Maybe…like him?  No.  Logan shook his head at the thought.  'Ro wasn't like him.  He fought against his feral side, trying to keep it contained.  It was simply a part of her to possess that animalistic section.  It had always just been there, bubbling along beneath the surface, swelling only in extreme anger.  

The waitress passed by Logan's table, and indicated towards his beer bottle, implicitly asking if he would like another beer.  "Hai, domo," he replied, and returned to musing.  But, now, she had changed.  Rather than the animal being in the background, it now had an "on-off" switch.  Normally, it seemed to rest in "off," and Ororo retained her calm, caring attitude.  But, as he had witnessed, there was no anger progression.  She just flipped to "on."  And while on, she did not hesitate, it seemed.  

She needed to come home.

_________________   

Stunning.  Possibly, that word could describe Ororo and Yukio.  Or, most likely not.  Yukio had "gone glitter-happy" as Ororo had called it, and done her eyes up with the shiny flakes.  Wearing a red short skirt and shirt, she aimed to stop the room.  It was fun watching people drool, she mused.  Ororo had originally decided on a tight black suit, but then Yukio found it while Storm was getting together her lotion and other bath accessories.  Scissors had been applied, and now Storm wore a skin-tight black cat suit with an opening that opened on her right just below her bust and ended at her hips.  The opening was both front and back, leaving a thin strip on Ororo's left to hold it together.  When Ororo had protested, Yukio shrugged, and informed Ororo that all her other clothes were hidden.  When faced with the prospects of going to the club naked, Storm had begrudgingly slipped the outfit on.  

As soon as they stepped into the underground club, a number of dancing prospects quickly made themselves known.  Ororo had smiled, and agreed to dance to the pulsing beat, but Yukio wanted to find a table and some alcohol before dancing.  While on her way to the last empty table, Yukio spotted two twin peaks of wiry hair.  _It couldn't be._  

Logan's senses told him that someone was watching him.  Turning around, he noticed Yukio boring a hole into him with her eyes, the red of her outfit causing her eyes to spark all the more brightly.  Standing up, he strode over to the self-proclaimed ronin, weaving his way through the swaying crowd.

"Logan."

"Yukio.  How have you been?"

"Leave."  No formalities, no pretense.  "I know why you're here.  It's for 'Ro, isn't it?  I suggest you leave before she spots you."

Logan stepped forward, took Yukio by the elbow, and guided her outside.  "Nah.  I ain't leaving until I tell her it's time to come home."

Yukio's eyes narrowed into knife-blade slits.  "It isn't time.  You'll hurt her."

"You did your job, it's time.  I'm here to reclaim her."

_________________

"Yukio?  Devils take the girl, she must have stepped outside."  Smiling to her last dance partner, she dodged the other males vying for her attention and stepped outside into the crisp night air.

_________________

"One last time, Wolverine.  Leave."

"No."

Blue eyes widened as they spied the pair around the corner.  "Logan?"

AN2:

Hey, I said they'd meet, not that they'd interact this chapter.  Sheesh.  :P

Rhapsody:  Yup, aggressive.  And she's quite good at it, I'd say.  ;)

Rhiannon:  You don't feel most acupuncture needles.  They're not huge regular blood drawing behemoths.  Thanks for the support!

Stormfreak:  Damn, I didn't even realize it was sexual tension.  But, if that's what you want it to be, I won't deny you that.  :P  You could just call it that I'm writing in the tradition…were they more than friends, or not?  We'll see what happens in two chapters.  I know the next chapter, and I know the end.  It's the middle that's got me pondering.  And get back to Full Circle, girl!


	12. Attack, to aggressively pursue and harm.

AN:  Don't try to write fanfiction while watching Indiana Jones.  I almost had Logan with a whip and Storm taking shots in a drinking contest.  Hey now, maybe that would work…

Also, I truly believe that Logan is a very possessive man, and that comes in conflict with his independence.  So, he wavers back and forth in my mind, never committing to one side or the other fully.  But that's for a Wolverine writer to deal with.

____________

"Yeah, 'Ro.  It's me."  An involuntary smile crept along Logan's face as he stared at Ororo.  Whether it was a purely friendly smile, or something born out of Storm's tight outfit, the dark alleyway did not betray.  

Incredulous and shocked, Ororo stuttered over her words.  "Wha…what are you doing here?"

Logan strode over to Storm, and lightly rested his large palm on her shoulder.  "I came ta see you, darlin'.  I was worried 'bout you."

Yukio let out an irritated snort at the display, and leaned against the cool, rough concrete building.  Rolling her shoulder back, Storm broke contact with Logan, and gave him a wary look.  "Worried?  Why now?  Why not back at the mansion?"  As Logan's mind reeled, Yukio gave him a smug, sardonic grin.  "Why have you truly followed me, Logan?" Storm continued.  

"Because my girl shouldn't…"

"Your girl?"  Ororo blinked rapidly while trying to form her words.  "And since when have I been your property?

"That's not it at all, 'Ro.  I just wanted to see what was going on."

Ororo mimicked Yukio's arrogant posture against the wall, looking down at Wolverine.  Eyes narrowed, she looked on the brink of fury.  "And yet, you felt the need to sneak around, not letting me know you were even here.  Goddess, Logan.  It does not even matter now.  Goodnight."

"Ro!"

"Goodnight."

Moving as one entity, Ororo and Yukio pushed off the wall with the soles of their feet, and walked off, leaving Logan standing under the lone blinking streetlamp.

_______________________

"No…I…no.  Stop…no.  I can not…ahhhhhh!"  

"Wind Rider!"  Kicking in the door to Storm's room, Yukio burst in after hearing her friend's screams.  Her eyes darted around, and noticing no one else in the room, looked at Storm.  The ashen silk sheets were strewn around the bed, pooling around the foot.  Storm's white hair was becoming tangled around her arm, as she thrashed about, mumbling and screaming alternately.  A light gleam of perspiration shone on Ororo's forehead, reflecting in the light that streamed in the window from the street.   Her normally flawless face was etched in pain and creases.  Another scream, another kick, and Yukio dove on the bed, trying to restrain Storm.

"Ororo!  'Ro!  Wind Rider!  Stop it!"

Once Ororo was pinned, her claustrophobia kicked in, and she began to curl up and yell, drawing the sheet up in her clawed fist.  "No!  Stop it!"

"Ororo!"  The sudden audio and shaking assault broke through the sleep haze, and Ororo bolted up, panting.  

"Where…Yukio?"  

"Yeah, 'Ro.  You had a nightmare.  What happened?"

"I…I was trying…trying to control a tempest, but I could not, and it overwhelmed me, knocking me out."

Yukio cradled Ororo's head against her shoulder, and smoothed out Storm's long hair.  "It's alright, nothing's going to happen.  Everything's all right.  See?"

"Yes, there is no storm.  I can see…" Suddenly, Ororo began to panic and shot out of the bed to look outside.  

"'Ro!  What is it?"

"I…I cannot feel that there is no storm."

Yukio rested her chin on her knees in confusion.  "What do you mean, you can't feel it?"

"I cannot feel my connection with the weather or earth."

"Can you still use your powers?"

Raising her hand from her side, Ororo concentrated, and a small rain cloud appeared inside the apartment, just under the chocolate hand.  "Obviously, yes."

"Then your powers are now completely divorced from all outside influences.  Congrats."

A faraway look shone through the brilliance of Storm's blue eyes.  "Yes.  I see."

"Come on, get some sleep.  I'll stay here tonight.  Well, as long as you don't kick me or snore, that is."  Yukio smiled, and scooted herself over to allow Ororo to lie down again.

"Right."  Mechanistically, Storm curled up under the sheets, staring at the lone picture on the far wall.  She listened to Yukio's rhythmic breathing as she finally managed to drift off to a troublesome sleep.

____________________

Damn.  Damn it all to hell and back, pausing in between for a good fuck.  Logan lay back on his hotel bed, hands crossed behind his head.  A Japanese game show was on in the background, the bright colors playing around the room, flashing all around.  Logan knew he had royally screwed himself over this time, but he also knew that he was not one to roll over and die.  

Sure, he cared for Storm as a deep and true friend.  That was never in question.  So, why did she turn so harsh?  Crossing one hairy foot over the other, Logan settled back into the pillows for support.  They had known each other for a long time, Storm and himself.  She knew how possessive he was of his friends, of the women in his life.  As long as he didn't hinder her, she had always laughed about it before.  

Growling, Logan smashed his fist into the dresser, splintering the fine wood.  She had changed, and he didn't like it one bit.  Fuck what Ororo Munroe wanted, Logan was taking over.

___________________

Another night, same scenario.  Yukio and Ororo were out at the underground club, and Logan was biding his time, downing a beer.  Somehow, each of the parties involved instinctively knew that the others would be there again.  This time, though, Logan wasn't waiting to be discovered.  As soon as the girls walked through the metal door, Logan stood, and intercepted them, leading them outside to the alleyway of the previous night.  The lone blinking light had finally given up the ghost, and aside from the faint moonlight, there was no illumination, bathing the alley in a dark cover.

"Logan," Storm bit out in a tight voice, "what is the meaning of this?"

"You're not getting any better here, time ta go home."

"And if I refuse?"

"I'm taking ya home, 'Ro.  Just come along."

"Why the sudden interest, Logan?"  Ororo glanced back at Yukio, who shrugged her shoulders, implicitly urging Ororo to continue whatever she was doing.  "Jean finally decide that you were not worth her time?"

"That has nothing to…"

Heel, toe.  Heel, toe.  Storm's predatory advance stopped Logan's voice in his larynx.  Slowly, she advanced on him, head cocked and eyes sharp.  Logan's instincts kicked in, telling him to extend his claws, but he suppressed them.  This was Storm.  She wouldn't intentionally harm him.  Would she?  

Voice soft and flowing like warm honey, Ororo paced around Logan, trailing a finger around his shoulders.  "So, you thought that coming here, playing the protective macho role would cause me to return with you?  Or, were you just thinking with your cock?"  Logan opened his mouth in shock at the profanity coming out of the normally placid Storm's mouth, but she closed it with a finger.  "Do not leave your mouth open, Logan.  It is rude."  Yukio snickered, she was enjoying the show.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Storm slowly strode away, back to Wolverine.  "You cannot convince me to leave with you, Logan.  I suggest you go, now."

"No."

Storm sighed, and spun on her heel to face Logan once more.  She dropped her head, allowing her fine hair to drop into her eyes, covering her face.  She slowly raised one hand, following it with her eyes as some hair fell back, framing her face.  Turning her chin up diagonally, she stared with fascination at the back of her knuckles.  "I always wondered why you liked to fight with claws at such a close range, Logan.  I much preferred distance fighting.  Close in seemed so harsh, so…" Her voice trailed off as three bolts of lightning raised themselves off the back of her hand, mimicking Wolverine's three claws.  She smiled a wicked, predatory smirk.  "So…fun."

Yukio moved forward a bit, clearly no longer at ease.  "'Ro?"

A clench of the fist, and the electric claws disappeared, returning Ororo's eyes to blue.  "But, that is neither here nor then."  Heel, toe.  Heel, toe.  Once again, Storm advanced on Logan, but this time without the stalking aspect.  He relaxed; she seemed to be calm once more.  Reaching his broad form, Ororo placed one hand on Logan's chest, and dropped her head to his shoulder.  She nuzzled her nose against his neck, breathing in his scent.  He reached around her waist, pulling her closer.  Storm balled the fist against his heart, and whispered "Goodnight, sweet prince."

Yukio startled forward as Logan's limp body tumbled to the ground.  "What happened?"  Looking over, she saw Ororo inspecting her lightening claws that protruded from the hand that had been against his heart.  Evidently, the pulse of electricity had been enough to stop his heart for a moment.  Storm looked up, releasing the current, and saw Yukio.  "Come."  Seeing Yukio hesitate, Ororo waved her hand in dismissal.  "He will heal.  Let us leave."

_______________  

AN2:  I'm thinking two to three more chapters, and I'm out.  Wow, to finish this story!

Stormfreak:  Were they more than friends?  Eh.  Like heck anyone knows.  So, I'm putting them as close as possible without actually crossing the NC-17 line. ;)  I think this resolved the problem I told you about.  Too bad I need that person later, can't kill them off.

Rhapsody:  Yeah, demanding.  But, that always has seemed to fit him.  He'll pine away and brood one minute, aggressively jump the next.  And if you want a Yukio friend, I've got one for 5 easy payments of $19.95.

Rhiannon and Lori:  You got your confrontation. ;)  And her emotions are now fully separated.  

Trilogy:  Ahem.  Why did you remove your story from ff.net?  I like to read stories that aren't finished, too!  Damn it!

Stormgirl:  Thanks!


	13. Scared, to possess fear over someone or ...

AN:  I had so many bad ideas for this chapter…everything ranging from after-school special territory to three ways in bed.  So, I took an element from each (well, aside from the three way.  I'll leave the NC-17 stuff to the masters.)  Two chapters to go, wanna start the countdown?

_________________

The walk back was in a stiff, awkward silence.  Yukio stared at her friend's back, straight and proud as ever.  Only now, with a hint of a previously suppressed swagger that had long lain dormant, concealed in order to maintain a firm influence over her powers.  Yukio frowned; she was scared of very little in this world.  She had seen events time and time again that could be considered apocalyptic, and they only got her adrenal glands fired.  But, as Yukio admitted once in the fight against the Phalanx, Storm's well being and the fall of it frightened her to the core.

Snorting, Yukio shoved her hands in her pockets, idly glancing at the few fluttering papers that passed by in the breeze.  It wasn't far to their shared apartment.  And then what?  Yell, scream, and point her finger like she was disciplining a wayward child?  Hardly.  She wasn't worried about Logan; his death wouldn't be the greatest loss ever in her life.  In fact, it might simplify a few things.  But Ororo's change?  No.  

A chilly breeze kicked up, causing Yukio to hunch over and look at the ground to keep warm.  Was this the real Ororo?  The one who didn't have to evaluate each and every reaction to ensure that a hurricane would not follow a spat?  Or a blizzard to follow a brush with sadness?  The creak of metal told Yukio that Ororo was ascending the staircase to the apartment, and she quickly followed, fishing her key out of her deep pocket.  Once inside, Yukio paused and caught Storm's attention with a cough.

"Yes, Wild One?"

"Um, well, do you plan on going back for Wolverine?" Yukio tumbled out, uneasy about her feelings of insecurity.

"No," Ororo stated, as if it were a final pronouncement.

Gathering up her breath, Yukio glared at Ororo with a sudden fury.  "What the hell was that about?  Stabbing him?  Damn it, 'Ro, you don't stop the hearts of your teammates!"

"And why not?" Ororo shrugged.  "Was it not you who was pushing me to forget the X-Men?"

Yukio shook her head and stepped up to her friend.  "Not by killing them!"

"Logan will hardly die from a temporarily stopped heart."

"That's not the fucking point, 'Ro!"  Yukio wiped her face with the palm of her hand in frustration and annoyance.  "I thought he was your friend!  You gonna do that to me now?"

Ororo rolled her eyes.  "Stop worrying, Yukio.  It hardly suits you.  But, would that not be a bitch, though?"  Ororo paused, thoughtful.  "To have the one all the other X-Men dump their problems on, the rock of the team be the one to take them down?  I call it irony."

"I call it sick!"  Yukio sat down on the edge of the couch, looking up at Ororo.  "This isn't like you at all!  Are you so un-fucking-believably reliant on your connection to the earth that the second you don't feel it, you feel license to do whatever you damn well please?"

"If that were the case, I believe I would shut your mouth for you," Ororo fiercely whispered, eyes narrowed.             

"And back to the threats.  Have you progressed one damn bit in the time you were here?  Maybe Logan was right, you should leave."

"Really?"  Heel, toe.  One foot directly in front of the other, Ororo stalked up to Yukio in a similar manner as she had Logan moments before.  Yukio stood up, taking matters into her own hands, and slapped Ororo hard across the face.  Ororo's head turned with the blow, and she brought a hand up to the heated flesh where Yukio's hand had stung.  "Hmm. So you want to play, huh?"  Ororo leaned down, her hair falling between the inches wide gap separating the two women's faces.  "Very well, it's my turn.  Are you ready?"  Laughing low in her throat and eyes white, Ororo looked every bit the part of a demon sent for redemption.  

"Back.  Off."  

________________

_Damn.  Note to self: girls with lightning claws are bad for your health._  Sitting up, Logan shook his head to clear it and looked up to the sky.  _Must be about three in the morning or so.  _Popping his back into place, Logan stretched and began the walk to Yukio's apartment.  He was going to retrieve Ororo, and if it meant a knock down, full on fight, so be it.  He needed a good brawl anyway.  Claws slipping out, he picked up the pace.  Ororo Munroe was going down, hard and fast.  

________________

Stray licks of power teased and wound themselves in both girls' hair, their close proximity allowing the electricity to easily jump from the white to dark tresses and back.  "What are you going to do, Yukio?  Stick me with the knife I see just out of range?"  Eyes shifting back to blue, Ororo released the walling power, and walked away.  Yukio took a deep breath, allowing her body to sag back into the cushions.  Too close.  That was entirely too close.  

Ororo sat in her room, legs curled under her.  She was terrified.  Terrified of not having her connection to the earth, terrified of the future, and most importantly, terrified of herself.  What had possessed her to lose control with two of her dearest friends?  Maybe it was too much, too soon.  Or maybe she couldn't divorce her powers from her emotions without consequences on her psyche that she wasn't prepared to deal with.  Sighing, she stood and entered the living room again.  "Yukio?"  

"Yeah?"  

Ororo reached down, and pulled her dearest friend into a tight hug, allowing her body weight to sag onto Yukio's slight frame.  "Thank you," she whispered, tears wavering into her shaky voice.  

Yukio pulled back slightly and smoothed Ororo's hair.  "I love you, 'Ro.  Don't forget it."

Ororo smiled, relieved.  "And I you, Yukio."

The heavy steps of boots to metal alerted the women to an intruder making his way up the stairs.  "That is Logan, Yukio.  I must go."

"I understand.  It was nice having you here." 

"Thank you again."  Ororo planted a soft kiss on Yukio's forehead, as Yukio placed one on Storm's cheek.  Releasing each other fully, Storm opened the sliding door leading to the balcony, and took off in flight, leaving only her silhouette behind.

A pound on the door, followed by an explosive burst revealed a snorting, angry Wolverine.  Claws extended and eyes wide, he sniffed and growled at Yukio.  "Where's 'Ro?" he snarled. 

Yukio smirked; glad to have bested the feral man.  "Gone.  Out of your reach."

___________________

Months later 

In a remote place of Africa, a small tribe gasped as unseasonable rains suddenly graced them, renewing their thirsty crops and refilling their dry tributaries.  From the mountaintop, a former goddess smiled as saw the villager's reactions to the precipitation.  Offering a silent prayer to the goddess, the figure flew off, directed through a renewed connection to the earth as to where needed her.   

___________________

Two weeks later 

Toweling off her short hair, Yukio yelled colorful obscenities at the phone.  Of course, she was in the shower.  When else does the phone ring?  "_Kuso!_  I'm coming!  Hold on!"  Snatching the receiver off the base, Yukio held the phone up to her ear.  "Hello," she questioned, clearly irritated.

"Yukio?"

"Wind Rider!"

"I'm going home now."

Yukio smiled, genuinely happy.  "Good for you.  Do you want me to call ahead and let them know?"

Yukio could feel the smirk forming on Ororo's face, as she responded, "No.  Let me surprise them."

__________________

AN2:  Whoo, buddy!  Thank Pete that's over!  Two to go, two to go…hoo-ray!  And now, it's that time again!  Time to wash our socks?  No, time for…The Wheel of Morality!  Sorry.

Jezzy-B:  Thanks, and they'll be shocked, Logan most notably. *evil grin*

Rhapsody:  His girl, eh?  I think she'd zap ya for that one.  ;)  Thanks for the encouragement!

Stormfreak:  *in a taunting tone*  No-o!  No smut for you!

Scififreak:  Thanks.  I live to throw Logan off guard.  And having Storm doing it is such a bonus. 

Ororis Storm:  Yeah, but ain't it fun?

Jubes2861:  I don't think it's necessarily more realistic, but neither is "I Am Goddess On High.  Worship Me, Mortals!" ;)

Rhiannon:  Thank you so much for your encouragement.  It *really* helps.


	14. Challenge, to throw down the gauntlet.

AN:  I'm a nasty, knock down dirty liar.  Remember the whole "two chapters left" deal?  Uh, no.  It's going to take three.  

Remy never really considered himself much of a phone person.  It was hard to work charms on someone who could much more easily be distracted by outside influences.  So, when he heard the phone tone its shrill ring, he ignored it, looking around for someone else to answer.  Spotting Logan, Remy was about to yell out, but then quickly decided against it.  Wolverine had been in a piss-poor mood ever since he had returned from his trip, Remy mused, and Remy had no intentions of bothering an irate, testy wolf.  

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Gambit picked up the receiver and cradled it against his shoulder to keep his hands free.  "Bonjour?"

"Cajun?" a feminine voice questioned, not sounding happy with the arrangement.

Remy paused.  Who else, aside from Logan, called him Cajun?  Oh.  He nodded his head.  Someone Logan would have an influence on, no matter how much she despised it.  "Yukio?"  That you?"

"Yeah, can you give the phone to someone I actually want to talk to?"

Remy smiled.  Perhaps the phone wasn't as bad as he perceived it to be.  "Hmmm.  'Ro's not here.  Want to speak to Logan?  And 'sides, what's wrong wit' me?"   Don' you like me?"

A growl pushed its way through the fiber optics, eliciting a smile from Remy.  "Listen here, you little cuntflea, I called to warn you all."

"What about?  You have Stormy get ano'ter mohawk?  I've seen pictures."  It was if Remy could feel Yukio roll her eyes.

"No, I called to tell you that Storm's different.  She's not the same placid Ororo that left."

"So you called to warn us?  T'anks, I think we'll be alright."  Removing the phone from his ear, Remy set the phone back down on the cradle, and promptly forgot about the conversation.  After all, how different could his padnat be?

_________________

Approximately a month after Remy's conversation, the entire mansion was sniping at each other over petty issues.  It all started with the Professor and Jean's knowing smiles and glances, as if they knew something that no one else did.  So, of course, everyone assumed that it was for the worst, and accused everyone else of doing something horrid.  Rogue was on Bobby's case because she "knew he had done something stupid," Remy was accusing Henry of "some sort of scientific prank," and so on down the line.  And still, Jean and Xavier smiled, just waiting.  

After lunch had finished, Jean turned to Remy, unable to contain herself any longer.  "Remy, there's someone outside you should see."

"The Publisher's Clearing House Man?"

Jean rolled her eyes with a smile.  "Just go."  

Grumbling, Remy pushed his chair away from the table and stepped to the side door.  Turning the knob, he strode outside, halfway expecting to see Sinister.  A blur of white hair running at him gave a different story, however.  "Stormy!"  Colliding into each other, Ororo knocked Remy down, and they tumbled to the grass, locked in a hug.  

"Do not call me that!"  They both laughed at the familiar banter, slipping easily back into their former friendship.  "Oh, it is so good to see you, Remy," Storm gushed, emotions spilling out of her like a tidal wave. 

Craning his neck up a bit, Gambit placed a tender kiss on Ororo's forehead.  "I've missed you, _padnat_."

"And as much as it pains me to say it," Ororo smirked, "I have missed you, also."  Extricating herself from Remy's long arms and legs, she stood and lowered a hand to help her dear friend up.  "Come, I wish to see more than just you."

Taking the proffered hand, Remy hoisted himself up.  "More than just me, Stormy?"  Remy placed a hand to his chest in mock indignation.  "I'm shocked."

Laughing, Storm began walking to the mansion.  Remy slipped an arm around her shoulder, leading her to the door.  Before Ororo could turn the knob, Remy let go and backed up.  He didn't want to be crushed.  The doorknob clicked, and Ororo slowly eased the door open.  Rogue was the first to notice.  "Storm?  Storm!"  Jumping out of her seat, she rushed over and grabbed her in a large hug, followed by the other X-Men, all crushing and mobbing the former goddess.  

Well, all except for one.  Wolverine stood to give Storm a hug, also, when he felt the first wave.  Gasping, he gripped the counter's edge, eyes darting around.  Pulses of power were crashing into him like a heartbeat.  Steady, constant, and strong.  Thud, thud, thud.  Swallowing hard, Logan shakily looked over at the perceived source.  Concentrating, he tuned in.  Yes, there it was.  Every time Ororo's heart beat, she sent out a pulse of blood and energy coursing through her veins.  

_Shit.  _Logan couldn't even get close.  To him, it was as if Nature herself had taken up residence in Ororo's ribcage, conducting business from inside.  It both called to his wild, feral side and shoved him away with the force of it.  

As the laughter and warm greetings faded, the welcoming committee and Ororo left the kitchen and airily strode over to the parlor room, chattering amongst themselves.  Taking a deep, calming breath, Logan concentrated and blocked out the power flowing off Storm.  He still had to pay her back.

_________________

"Computer, terminate program.  Override:  Munroe 259."  

"Program terminated."  As the whirring slowed down and dropped to a low hum, Wolverine turned, fiercely angry at having his toy taken away.  Growling, he dropped into a half crouch, exposing one sharp canine tooth in a show of aggression.  

Leaning against the chilled metal of the Danger Room wall, Ororo raised a single eyebrow at Logan's display.  Dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and short cutoffs, she looked as if she were ready to fight.

"What the fuck was that for, 'Ro?" Logan spat out, snarling.  

A sadistic, twisted smile slid its way across Ororo's full lips, slanting them.  "I thought you would rather fight the real me."  She shrugged.  "However, if you would rather not…"

"I thought you'd never ask."  Leaping forward, Wolverine lashed out at Storm, claws stabbing forward towards her midsection.  Slipping off at the last second, Storm stared in wonderment as Logan attempted to remove his claws from how they were now embedded in the wall.  It seemed that he was not playing around.  She smirked.  Good.

Logan yanked his claws free, and whipped around to face Ororo.  His lip curled back in primal assault, intent clear.  She held his eyes with her own, and then brought her hands up in between them.  He noticed her eyes whiting over, then the familiar electric claws crackled to life on the backs of her smooth palms.  Good.  He wanted this to be all-out.  

Rushing at each other, the combatants slipped, dodged and parried their way through the fight.  Neither would concede an inch in position, nor leave themselves vulnerable.  Finally, Ororo found an opening, and went on the aggressive, spinning around and pressing every opening she could find.  She backed him up, yelling her intent as he roared his back.  Backed into a corner, Logan tucked his head in and tackled Ororo to the floor, effectively pinning her under his weight.

He felt the static electricity build as Ororo prepared to strike him with a bolt of searing electricity.  Growling at her aggressiveness, he looked directly into her eyes, challenging her.  She smiled back, allowing the rumbling thunder to speak for her.  As Logan held her eyes, he moved one hand up by her face, using his palm to support his body mass before suddenly leaning down and claiming her lips.  

Fighting back a moan, Logan pressed more insistently against Ororo's soft lips, coaxing her to part them to allow his tongue entrance.  He felt a sharp intake of air, and then Ororo's lips opening as she darted her tongue against his.  Snarling, he wound one hand deep into her long silky hair as he deepened the kiss.  Sliding one hand brazenly under the edge of her shirt, Logan slipped his hand along her stomach and ribs, feeling how soft the skin is there.

He tore his mouth away, and began pressing his lips down her neck as his hand worked its way further up her body.  Growling at the heat of her skin, he reached her breast with his palm, and grinned with dark intent as she arched up towards him.  Allowing his hand to continue, he kissed back up to claim her mouth again, groaning as he felt her wind her legs around his.  _Damn, she's gotten ripped_, he thought idly as her toned legs brushed against his denim covered ones.  He almost lost all control as she opened her legs, allowing him to position himself in between her appendages.  She brought her knees up, and ankles in, completing the leg lock on Logan's lower body.  

Snarling as he could feel her heat, he kissed her more insistently.  Then, his legs were brought out from under him as Ororo suddenly spread hers wide.  His breath came out in a rush as he was thrown down onto her chest from losing his balance.  Before he could recover, Ororo rolled them both on one side, her legs still intertwined with her knees bent.  Her lip curled, and she kicked straight out, taking his leg with hers, and violently ripping his leg from the hip socket.  

Howling in pain, Logan clutched at his leg and growled as Ororo untangled herself and stood.  Without a word, she stepped over his rapidly healing form and left the room.

Logan stumbled to an upright position, balanced himself, and slammed his leg back into place against the hard floor with a hiss of pain.  He chuckled, and smiled in retrospect.  Maybe she had changed for the better.  And maybe, just maybe, he'd better apologize.

_________________

AN2:  No more MSTs on ff.net?  There went my true specialty…

Ninamonkey:  My gosh, that's a compliment coming from you.  Thanks!  And I don't do bodice-rippers.  You go through so much money that way… ;)

Stormlover:  Thanks!

Scififreak:  That work for ya?

Rhapsody:  Now it's two chapters left.  Restart the countdown!

Stormfreak:  Yes, yes I am.  Got a problem with that?  Really?  I'm sorry, I can only handle complaints on days without vowels in their name.  


	15. Tenacity, to refuse to quit.

AN:  I like Scott a lot, he's interesting to me.  Unfortunately, he's going to get the short end of the stick here.  Sorry.  Much of this story will eventually be rewritten; I can't help but cringe at parts.

Gathering his breath, Logan gingerly exited the Danger Room, intent on finding Ororo.  As he felt his leg completely heal, he snapped his head up to catch the passing scents.  Ignoring the permeating scents of wood and sweat that always occupied the area outside the Danger Room, Logan concentrated.  There.  Leading upstairs, Ororo's scent.  Stalking to the end of the hall, Logan allowed his fingers to trail over the wood panels until he reached the elevator.

Stabbing at the button, Logan growled in impatience.  He never did care for machines to do the work for him, but the stairs were on the other end of the floor, and his impatience with the elevator did not outweigh his desire to take the easier route.  A ding, and the doors slid open, allowing Wolverine to enter the metallic chamber.  He punched the attic button, and tapped his foot as the doors closed.  Someday, he would have to convince Xavier to install Blackbird engines under the elevator.  This waiting crap was overrated.

Another ding, and the doors opened to reveal the expansive attic entrance.  Logan steadied himself, and tapped lightly on Ororo's heavy door.  "'Ro?  You in there?"

Not hearing a response, he cracked open the door to see Storm sitting on her bed, shuffling through some yellowing papers.  "Yes, Logan?" she questioned, clearly exasperated.  "What can you want now?"  Before he could answer, Ororo held up her hand to silence him, and turned to her drawers, opening the topmost drawer.  

She searched for something unknown, and finally found it.  Eyes hard, she turned back to Logan, and handed him two hundred dollars.  "What's this for?"

"Hire yourself a hooker," she snapped.  It was obvious that Yukio had been rubbing off on her.  "I do not wish to sit here and play little lusting games, Logan."  Crossing the room, she threw open her closet and pulled out a dark wig.  "You can even bleach this so you can pretend it is me.  Whatever your obsession or fetish, find someone else."

"That's not what I…"

"Then what?" Ororo shot back, clearly irritated.  "What is it that you want so badly that you insist on following me halfway around the world and placing your nose into my life?"  

Logan lowered his eyes.  "I want to apologize," he forced out.  Retractions had never come easily to the man who lived his life in the moment.

Ororo arched an eyebrow.  "Really?"  Her voice was doubtful and edged, as if she did not believe the words leaving his lips.  

"Yeah."  He shuffled his feet a bit.  Why did she insist on making him draw this out?  "I've been a possessive ass."

"The devil you say!" she sang out, slightly amused.

"Can you forgive me?"

Ororo looked at her longtime friend, who was unmistakably uncomfortable apologizing.  A smile turned up one side of her mouth.  "Of course.  Come here."  Crossing the distance in between them, she gathered him up in a tight embrace.  "You will always be my dear friend, no matter how many times I feel the need to fry you."

Logan chuckled a bit, and gripped Ororo's waist tightly.  "Just like that, I'm forgiven?"

"I have better things to do than to hold grudges against stupid wolves who like to think macho thoughts, do I not?"

"Truce, I deserved that one."

Ororo let go of Logan, and sat back down on the edge of her bed.  As he turned to leave, she called to him.  "And Logan?"

"Yes?"

She winked.  "That kiss may have helped your forgiveness just a little bit."

Logan smirked with male pride.  "And this two hundred dollars will buy me a lot of damned good beer," he bragged.  Reaching into his back pocket, he fished for the elusive pair of bills.  "Where…"

A flash of green caught his acute peripheral vision.  "You mean this two hundred dollars?"  A small smile graced Storm's lips as she triumphantly held up the money.

Logan shook his head, laughing quietly.  "Once a pickpocket, always a pickpocket, eh 'Ro?"

Ororo just let her eyes flash as she tucked the money into her bra strap.  "As I always say, it never hurts to keep your skills sharp."

______________________

All the X-Men, aside from Scott, that were currently at the mansion were lounging around the recreation room, either reading or watching a Harrison Ford movie.  Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, and Jean sat engrossed in the explosions and plot of the movie, while Storm and Beast caught up on their reading, the former idly glancing up and musing that Harrison Ford had aged remarkably well.     

Cyclops poked his head in the door, a concerned look on his face.  "X-Men, to the War Room."  

Assorted protests, and a thrown pillow from Jean marked their reluctance.  "We have activity from the FOH going on, and it's not pretty."

The mood turned somber and everyone hastily filed out of the room, to the television's strains of "Get off my plane!"  

The starkness of the War Room aided in the focus of everyone present as Scott called up the video screens.  "It seems as if we have another hostage situation.  With their success at felling one of us last time," his eyes flickered briefly to Ororo," they must have figured to try again, same strategy."  

"How many are they keeping incapacitated?" Beast requested.

Fingers dancing across the buttons, Scott glanced at a side monitor.  "Two.  Two small boys with obvious physical mutations."  

"Well, let's go," Logan urged.  He stood and popped his claws.  "I wouldn't mind stopping them again."  

"In a moment, Wolverine," Scott ordered.  "Now, I want Ororo to stay behind to keep an eye out here.  With the Professor out of town, we can't be too careful."

Ororo shook her head.  "I wish to accompany you on this mission, Scott."

"No," Cyclops commanded.  "I want you here."

Beast cleared his throat.  "I could perhaps remain here and prep the Med Room in case of an emergency.  We do not know the condition the two boys will be in."

"Fine.  Storm and Beast will remain here."

Ororo smacked her hands flat on the table, causing everyone to jump a bit.  "I will be joining you on this mission, understand?"

Scott's posture stiffened in response.  "Damn it, Storm, I don't want to pull rank, but if I have to…"

Violently, Ororo stood, her chair flying away from her.  "Rank, Cyclops?"  Her eyes narrowed, and Logan could feel her energy gather.  "Need I remind you that the last time we battled over leadership, I won?"  She allowed a stray bolt of lightning to flash across her face.  "Care to test your luck again?"

The two leaders stared each other down, neither giving in.  Jean and Remy sat in surprise at Ororo's outright disobedience, while Rogue silently cheered Storm on. Logan, on the other hand, suppressed an urge to yell, "That's my girl!"  

Scott's shoulders sank, tired of this game.  "Fine.  Storm will accompany us.  Let's move out, X-Men!"

________________________

"Rogue, you go and get the two boys.  We'll provide cover."  In uniform, the assorted mutants stood outside the Blackbird, on a neighboring rooftop.  They could see the alleyway where the two boys were being held.  Ororo fought down a wave of déjà vu at the striking similarity to her last encounter with the Friends of Humanity.  

"No, I will go."  Before anyone could say differently, Ororo called the winds to her, and she took off towards the boys, oblivious to Scott's cursing.  

"Alright, we're backups.  Keep them busy!"  

Ororo forced the winds harder and faster, propelling herself down faster and faster.  If she could successfully do this, it would finally complete this chapter in her life, and she could move on.  She glanced up, and saw the snipers in waiting.  A blast of snow, and they were encased in a complete whiteout, unable to fire.  In the recesses of her mind, she could hear the distinctive sounds of a battle; Scott's optic blasts, Logan's yells, Rogue's taunts.  Blocking them out, she concentrated on the task at hand.  

"Help!"  

Squinting, Ororo spotted the two boys.  Twins, both a pale green hue, huddled together for support and comfort.  Another burst of speed, and she shot down towards them before pain exploded in her side.  A bullet had gone completely through, and she cried out.  _Not this time.  Not again.  _Gritting her teeth, she forced the throbbing to a backburner, and she swept down and grabbed the two boys.  Smacking her communicator, she yelled, "I have them!"  

"Drop them off at the Blackbird!  We'll meet you there!"

Clutching the two tightly, Ororo flew back to the waiting plane, blood seeping out onto her uniform.  She placed the two down, and Jean yelled for her to stay and get that wound treated.  But Ororo wouldn't listen.  Listening would be failing once again.  One bullet would not stop her.  Flying straight up into the air, she began to form a large vortex of wind, and aimed it at the FOH soldiers.  Once the winds settled into their spiral pattern, she directed the slicing winds towards the FOH, intending to blow them to kingdom come.  

"Winds, carry them to a far away place!"  The tornado surged forward, skipping over the X-Men and catching onto the FOH troops.  Another flash of pain passed through her as another bullet entered her abdomen.  But, she did not drop; she pushed the tornado onward, ridding the city of the FOH.  As soon as her task was satisfied, she did fall, plummeting to the earth while trying to remain conscious.  Rogue caught her in midair, and immediately took her to the Blackbird.  

Logan was already on the communicator back to the mansion.  "Beast!  'Ro's hurt!  Get ready!"  

_I did it_.  Storm smiled as Logan feverishly grasped her hand, telling her to hang on.  _Finally, I did it.  I redeemed myself._  Then, her world went dark.

AN2:  One chapter to go-o!  *dances around in joy*

Ninamonkey:  Uhhh, sequel?  *gets evil glint in eye*  You might want to reconsider…

Rhapsody:  Taking names?  Really?  Hmm, there's an idea.  *grabs notepad*  Oh, Hugh Jackman and James Marsden, can I have a word? ;)

Bard:  Well, I'm glad ya liked it.  Now, can you do my writing for me?  

Minarya:  It's reviews like yours that make me get that evil author power thing going.  It's so intoxicating. :)

Icequeen:  Sadly, it's not a joke.  *bawls*

Scififreak:  Nah, they only knew that she was coming.  Well, that and that Logan was wearing teddy-bear underwear.  Shhh. ;)


	16. Recollection, to gather one's thoughts a...

AN:  We're done!  It's been fun, thank you to all my reviewers who needled me in the side to keep me going, especially those of you who had to listen to my half-cocked rants.  I don't know what's coming after this, but if I know myself, it won't be that long.  

Epilogue:

Logan stood outside the mansion, head tilted back to allow the sunlight to wash over his face.  A small wind whistled by, and ruffled his hair.  He stood like that for a moment, eyes closed, just allowing nature to run her fingers through his veins.  Leaves rustling brought him back, and he took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp scent of outdoors.  He could never imagine tiring of being outdoors, being free.  

And, he could never imagine Ororo tiring of it either.  Closing his eyes once more, he searched for her scent, earth and flowers mixed together with the natural female aroma.  Inhaling deeply, he filtered through the other, passing scents.  _Kurt.  Wood.  Jean.  Recently moved dirt.  Gambit.  There.  There she is_.  

Opening his eyes, Logan quietly stepped towards where he could faintly make out Ororo's scent, his wingtip shoes leaving brief indentations in the dewy grass.  He allowed his nose to lead him.  Through the trees where she liked to dance, past the fountain where she had once called a miniature waterspout to soak him, to the koi pond where she had, years ago started another small garden of exotic flowers.  

As he passed through the last of the dense foliage, he, if he blocked out the rest of the world, could just see the distinctive white hair that belonged to Ororo.  She was bent over her flowers, arranging the reds to mix with the oranges and the yellows.  As she had once declared, "If you're going to place orange fish in a pond, we need some warm colors to back them up."  Logan allowed his eyelids to slide over his pupils, and he tuned in closely.  There.  Her faint hum that she gave off only whilst among her flowers.  Whether she hummed to herself, or to the flowers, he'd never know.  

He took another deep breath, reassuring himself with her scent.  Yes, she was there.  He tugged on his jacket and necktie uncomfortably before sitting down on the edge on the pond.  "Hey, 'Ro."

She turned to the sound, smiling.  Standing up, she released the flower into the wind, and walked over to Logan.  "Hello, dear friend.  Why are you here?"  

When she sat down next to him, he could feel her warmth, feel her presence.  "Just wanted to talk," he replied, staring at the water.  

"About anything in particular?"

"No, not really."  He picked up a rock, and with a flick of his wrist, sent it skipping across the shallow pond.  

"How is Jean?"

"Fine, I guess.  Holding up alright."

"And Gambit?"

Logan skipped another stone.  "Haven't seen him.  He's been with Rogue for the last couple days."

"Mmm."  She hugged her knees to her chest, eyes focused on the horizon.  "You seem troubled.  Is there something else on your mind?"

"Did it feel good to save those two little boys?  Did you redeem yourself?"  Logan looked over at Ororo, eyes shining with expectancy.  His longing expression made it clear what he hoped the answer would be.

"Yes.  I faced my fears, and saved those two.  It was worth it."

"That's good."  He looked back out to the horizon, where the sun was beginning to melt into the earth.  "'Ro?"

"I'm sorry for being such an…"

"Let it go, Logan."  Her eyes softened, and she reached up to stroke the side of his face.  He leaned into her touch, trying to gain a measure of reassurance from it.  "Let me go."

"Mon ami?  Kurt's ready, it's time."  Remy stepped into the clearing, similarly attired in a dark suit.  When Logan didn't respond, Remy placed his hand on Logan's shoulder.  "Mon ami?"

Logan didn't turn around or acknowledge Remy in any manner for a moment.  "She's here, ya know.  Ororo. I can smell her, feel her here with us. "  

Remy sighed, eyes downcast.  "I know.  I can feel her, too."  

"She, she said that it was worth it."

"She always felt that way.  Come on, we must go."  Remy removed his hand from Logan's shoulder, and stretched it down to help Logan up.  They walked in silence back to the mansion, and then over to a small gazebo, where chairs had been set up and family and friends had been gathered.

Kurt stood at the front, facing out towards the crowd.  With a somber tone, and tears in his eyes, he began.  "Thank you.  We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and death of Ororo N'Dare Munroe…"  

Sensing something above him, Logan looked up.  A flash of white and chocolate, flying above.  _No, _he thought through the tears that were rapidly threatening to escape his eyes, _Ororo wasn't in that casket.  She's still here.  _  

_fin_


End file.
